


The Friction in your Jeans

by sarcastically



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, Smut, baby's first smut fic, blink and you miss it frerard, kind of not really??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 12:19:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4876567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastically/pseuds/sarcastically
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey meets a short, cute guy when he goes to one of his brother's dumb art shows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Friction in your Jeans

Mikey hated the community college. It was cold and bleak and reminded him of a hospital with its mostly blank, white walls and flecked flooring. It had just opened not that long ago as an “opportunity to help seniors get ahead on their college credits and struggling citizens to get their education” or whatever, and therefore didn’t have much that was pleasing to the eye yet. The college was hosting an art show for an opening thing, and of course Mikey’s brother just _had_ to go.

Gerard was an art junkie taking his first baby steps into his sophomore year of university; his room was cluttered with papers and paint and colored pencils and Mikey had no idea how he managed to navigate around all of it. He was currently standing by Gerard’s painting anyway -- it was bright colored and dramatic, and a few people were milling around to look at it. Mikey would much rather be at home laying on his carpet while listening to The Smiths and maybe smoking pot. He wasn’t too sure if he still had enough to scrounge up something with a worthwhile high, but it was a nice thought.

“Is this yours?” a voice suddenly rang out, making Mikey flinch. His eyes darted over to meet a guy that looked around his age, but about a foot shorter. He had dark hair that covered the majority of one of his eyes and, despite being bundled in a striped jacket even though it was hot as hell outside, he clearly had some muscle mass. Mikey suddenly became a lot more aware of how skinny and awkward he was.

“Oh no,” Mikey finally squeaked out, wringing his hands together nervously, “it’s my brother’s painting.”

Striped Sweater Guy grunted, his dark eyes darting back and forth across the canvas. He had a flat nose and a cute jawline, and Mikey felt the need to run his fingers over the slight stubble that was starting to become visible on his face. A faint trace of eyeliner that had probably not been wiped off the night before was smudged around his eyes, and he kept pulling his bottom lip into his mouth which was very endearing and the sight may have been the reason that Mikey’s pants felt a little tighter. Suddenly, Sweater Guy turned to look at him and Mikey looked away as fast as he could although he could still feel the burning sensation in his cheeks.

“It’s nice.” Sweater Guy said softly, and Mikey flashed him a quick upturn of his mouth. He got a big, toothy grin in response, and Jesus Christ was that a lot of teeth. He couldn’t help but actually smile this time, but he covered it quickly by rubbing his nose. “I’ll make sure that my brother knows that you said -”

“Pete.” he interrupted before hunching down a little bit. “My name is Pete.”

Pete. Pete was a nice name for a nice looking guy, Mikey supposed. Maybe it was his middle name, or short for Peter or something. He looked like a Pete kind of, not that he had ever met a Pete before then but this guy probably fit the Pete criteria because he was pretty cute and usually movie Petes were cute and-

“Are you gonna tell me _your_ name, tall leg dude?” Pete looked up at him through his eyelashes, flashing another wolfish grin. Mikey blushed again, wrapping his arms around himself. Wait - Tall Leg Dude? What the fuck kind of nickname is “Tall Leg Dude”?

“What the fuck kind of nickname is “Tall Leg Dude”?”

Pete howled with laughter, loud and brash against the quiet murmur of people walking around. A few bystanders looked at him like he had grown a second head, but Pete didn’t seem to mind at all. He had a hand over his mouth and was doubled over, giggling and shedding actual tears about something Mikey didn’t even find that funny. He smiled anyway.

“I’m Mikey, Short Sweater Dude,” Mikey finally laughed out, shuffling his feet closer together. Pete pressed his lips together before smiling a less toothy smile, much to Mikey’s dismay. Suddenly, the shorter guy dug around in his pockets before he whipped out a strip of notebook paper and held it out. “Well, Mikey, this is my number, you should text me sometime.”

And just like that, Pete had dodged back into the crowd of people and left Mikey alone and flustered, holding the slip of paper between his fingers. He turned it over in his hands to read the scrawled numbers, but frowned when he realized it had no area code. It shouldn’t be a problem - he knew Newark’s area code, after all.

\- - -

After a car ride of Mikey barely containing his gushing over Pete and Gerard not caring at all, Mikey found himself sprawled out on his bedroom floor with his phone in his hand while The Smiths droned lazily from his speaker.

_Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me…_

Mikey mumbled along, angrily punching in another area code only to be rejected by the phone company immediately. He was sure that he tried every area code within three hours of Newark, but to no use. This was like a game of “Where’s Waldo”, but instead of a nerdy guy in a red and white outfit, he was trying to find a cute short guy in a striped hoodie’s fucking area code. 

He groaned in frustration, tossing his phone across the room. He rolled over and pressed his face into his grimy carpet. This was utter bullshit. Pete was the first guy that had been interested in him since that brief fling he had with Frank Iero in his freshman year. Now Frank was fucking Gerard, and Mikey was left alone and loveless. He wallowed in self pity for a few more minutes before pulling himself up into bed and burritoing himself into the covers.

\- - -

It was too fucking early. Anything before noon was too fucking early, Mikey supposed.

He stared blankly at the shelf of cereal in front of him, barely processing the transition from Frosted Flakes to Fruity Pebbles as he threw another box into its place. He didn’t know why the grocery store insisted on giving him the earliest shifts ever, but every time he had an 8 am shift on a Saturday, he could actually feel his soul separating from his body. Another box of Wheat Thins flew onto the shelf, followed by a Raisin Bran to its left and a Frosted Flakes to its right. Stocking cereal was kind of a mindless task now, he was always on cereal-shelf-stocking duty. He prided himself on it, he guessed. It was better than getting frostbite from stocking the freezers.

“Hey.” a voice called out, dry and raspy in the way that Mikey was sure that this was another guy that didn’t want to drag themselves out of bed at 7 am. He turned around slowly, slurring out a, “How mayhelpyhu?” 

Mikey’s heart jumped into his throat as he looked down at a short teenager with dark hair and eyeliner-ringed eyes. His jacket proclaimed that “Love Can’t Save You” and Mikey was a hundred percent ready to agree with that judging by the fact that his heart rate had become erratic. He shifted back a little bit, hoping that his slightly over-sized polo shirt was disguising how hard he was breathing.

“You, um,” Pete looked down, biting his lip and furrowing his eyebrows. “You- you didn’t text or call or anything, I was just. I- I’m going to go, sorry for bothering y-”

“No!” Mikey squawked, grabbing Pete’s sleeve. “No, no, man. You didn’t give me an area code, I tried, like, every one in Jersey but I couldn’t find you.”

Pete smacked his forehead and groaned. “Fuck, I’m stupid.” he laughed, brightening up a little bit. “I just moved from Chicago, and I guess I’m used to people knowing the area code.” Mikey scribbled the area code on the back of his hand with a pen out of his pocket before flashing Pete a smile. They held each other’s gaze for a few seconds before the shorter of the two turned his attention to the cereal shelves.

“Hey, while you’re here, can you hand this short sweater dude that box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch up there?” Pete grinned again, but Mikey handed him a box out of the cart instead. After a quick goodbye, Pete was rolling down the aisle just in time to meet with an even shorter blonde guy with a fedora and an armful of various bags of sugary snacks. Pete laughed at something he said so loud that it rang back down the aisle and caused the short blonde to flinch back before laughing himself. Mikey ignored the pang of jealously in his chest.

 

Mikey ran his finger along the edge of his phone as he sat down on a parking curb in the grocery store lot. His grating 10 hour shift was finally over, and now all that he was waiting on was for Gerard to come pick him up. He had sent a text to Pete as soon as he clocked out. It wasn’t anything particularly special, just a simple ‘hey this is mikey way, im off work now’. Mikey suddenly frowned and crossed his arms. 

What if Pete was hanging out with the cute blonde guy? What if the cute blonde guy was his _boyfriend_ and he just thought Mikey was cool? What was so great about cute blonde guy anyway, other than the fact that he looked like an actual angel and Mikey totally did _not_ want to look like him? He grumbled to himself, kicking pebbles away from him angrily.

“What’s up, buttercup?” a high voice said, the owner of said high voice casting a shadow over Mikey. He looked up to see Frank looking down at him through his mess of black hair, and he flashed a quick smile before sighing. Frank took the liberty of sitting next to him and pulling a cigarette out of his pack. Frank always took liberties, Mikey supposed.

“I heard about that guy you’re obsessed with.” Frank cooed playfully, wiggling his eyebrows. Mikey couldn’t stifle the grin that spread across his face so he settled for shoving the other nearly off of the curb. The shorter one exhaled a cloud of smoke, and the sight struck Mikey as something from a movie or a painting. Frank had pale, soft features that were complemented by the oranges and pinks of the sunset and the wisps of cigarette smoke. It seemed like it would be captioned with some edgy grunge quote, or maybe something that talked about living your life or whatever. He gave Mikey a sideways glance before speaking again. “His name’s Pete Wentz. He’s 18 and he’s from Chicago. Apparently him and his friend Paprika or something moved here together.”

Maybe Paprika was the cute blonde guy. Mikey made a mental note of it. “How do you know so much about Pete?” he asked curiously. “I didn’t even know his last name until you said it.”

“I have my ways, Mister Mikes,” Frank said ominously, wiggling his fingers. He stood up just in time for Gerard’s car to whip dangerously into the parking space in front of them. Mikey followed suit, thumping down in the passenger seat while Frank made himself comfortable in the middle seat of the back.

“Good evening, space cowboys,” Gerard greeted in a dramatic voice as he backed out of the parking lot.

“It’s actually “See you, space cowboy”, you fucked it up,” Frank announced loudly. Gerard rolled his eyes in exasperation, and Mikey smiled. This was the near daily routine - Mikey would go to work or school, afterwards Frank would meet up with him, and then Frank and Gerard would bitch at each other the whole way home.

Mikey’s phone buzzed and his heart fluttered like a schoolgirl’s when she got noticed by senpai. It was from Pete, thank God.

‘hey mikeyway! i should call you that. mikeyways a cool name for a cool dude B)’

Mikey’s phone buzzed again.

‘me n my friend are having a super cool movie night, you up for it?’

Mikey quickly shot back an answer, hoping he didn’t come off as too eager. Even though he was pretty eager to have a “super cool movie night” with Pete, even if it meant that cute blonde guy was going to be there. Wait, but what if cute blonde guy and Pete _cuddled_ because they’re _boyfriends_ and that’s what boyfriends do? His face fell a little bit, and he settled for leaning his head against the window for the rest of the ride home.

 

Mikey adjusted his shirt that was a little too tight, and stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. It was exactly 32 minutes from the time that Pete told him to come over, and he totally wasn’t freaking out about it. He pulled on one of his black beanies, quickly adjusted his hair, and wiped a smudge of eyeliner off of his cheek in hopes that he would start looking cuter than before. The logical reasoning here was that if Pete thought he was cute in his ugly blue polo and khakis that morning, he would definitely find him cute in his Anthrax shirt and girl jeans. Maybe. Mikey tended to doubt things.

He had to walk there, too, which was totally not cool. However, it was marginally better than having his older brother drive him. It was starting to get cold; the sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and darkness had started to settle over Newark. Mikey jammed his headphones in his ears so he could listen to Siri tell him where to turn and when, and tried to ignore the way his heart jumped every time he thought he got a text. 

After what seemed like hours of walking, Mikey found himself in front of a house with an abundance of potted flowers on the porch. He hesitated - Pete didn’t seem like the flower kind of guy. He slowly climbed the steps and walked across the porch to the door, before taking a deep breath and knocking. The door swung open almost immediately, Pete beaming like a kid in a candy store while he rambled off a hello. 

Pete’s house was nice. Nicer than his, Mikey supposed. Pete had dipped out somewhere while Mikey was taking his shoes off, and left him alone to gaze at all of the family pictures on the wall. He was surprised to find out that Pete had curly, kinky hair. It didn’t detract from how cute he was, though.

The rustling of bags alerted Mikey, and he turned around to see cute blonde guy stumbling into the living room with an obscene amount of chip bags. He dropped them all on the coffee table and heaved a sigh, as if carrying bags of chips was akin to carrying a boulder. Cute blonde guy glanced up to meet Mikey’s eyes and smiled, which made Mikey’s cheeks burn. Cute guys should be illegal, especially if you already have a crush. Pete was still better looking, in Mikey’s opinion.

“Hi, I’m Patrick, I’m Pete’s friend.” cute blonde guy greeted, holding out his hand. Mikey gently took it and gave it a shake while introducing himself. Friend. Mikey could deal with friend. He felt a weight lift off of his lungs and he allowed himself to smile back at Patrick. This “super cool movie night” felt a lot cooler now that an imaginary competition to win Pete Wentz’s heart was eliminated.

Pete bounded into the living room, clutching a bowl of popcorn in one hand and balancing a stack of horror movies on the other. He popped in _Night of the Living Dead_ before he flopped down onto the couch and pulled Mikey and Patrick down with him by their belt loops. Soon, they were enveloped in an ocean of blankets and pillows while ear-piercing screams emitted from the T.V.. Pete leaned against Mikey’s side, and Mikey desperately tried to stay calm, knotting his fingers into the blankets next to him. The shorter of the two sighed softly, his breath ghosting down Mikey’s arm, and he thought he was about to lose it. Suddenly, Pete shifted away to grab the bowl of popcorn out of Patrick’s lap and Mikey let out a sigh of relief.

 

Three cheesy horror movies and a discussion about vampires later, the screen had settled on _The Blob_ ’s title screen. At the end of the couch, Patrick was fast asleep, leaned over on the couch arm and snoring softly. Pete was still awake, however, and he looked up at Mikey with a certain twinkle in his eyes.

“You know, Mikeyway,” he started, his voice low and scratchy, and Mikey tensed his thighs to will off his growing boner. “you’re really hot.”

Mikey blushed like a fucking schoolgirl, and he had to tell himself to breathe as Pete leaned in closer to him. He was looking into dark brown eyes and feeling the other’s breath ghosting across his lips, and he smashed his lips into Pete’s with a fury he didn’t know he had. Pete laughed quietly, pulling back with Mikey’s bottom lip between his teeth. He pushed the skinnier teenager back against the arm of the couch, and left a path of kisses down Mikey’s neck before trailing his tongue up the underside of his chin and pressing their mouths together again, hot and wet.

He ran his fingers down Mikey’s sides before digging them into the sharp angles of his hipbones. He wiggled Mikey around until he was fully on his back with his legs draped around his waist. Without warning, Pete suddenly rutted their dicks together and Mikey let out a high pitched moan. Pete laughed breathily, burying his face in Mikey’s neck to muffle his own moans as he picked up the pace. His breath was hot and wet on his skin, and Mikey grabbed a fistful of Pete’s hair with one hand and covered his mouth with the other.

“ _Fuck_ , Pete, holy shit,” Mikey rambled squeakily into his hand, his legs twitching and jumping against his will. Pete let out a high pitched moan, and he could feel slobber running down his neck. 

Pete was whining Mikey’s name over and over, and it was starting to drive him up the wall. Mikey dragged his nails from where they were clenched in Pete’s hair all the way down his spine, arching up into his messy thrusts. The pace was picked up again, and Mikey buried his face into Pete’s shoulder so his moans wouldn’t wake up Patrick.

“Fuck, baby,” Pete whimpered, digging his nails into Mikey’s sides. That seemed to do the job, as Mikey could feel every muscle in his legs tense up at the same time and he bit his lip.

“Pete I’m gonna-” 

“Come for me, Mikeyway,” Pete almost growled, shifting his arms so that he could claw Mikey’s back.

Mikey tossed his head back, wheezing and whimpering quietly. Pete pulled away from him, a string of spit still connecting his mouth to Mikey’s neck. His pants felt sticky and gross, but he couldn’t muster up the energy to get up and go clean himself. Mikey watched as Pete scampered off somewhere before coming back with a pair of pajama pants that were clearly way too short for the string bean that is Mikey Way.

He took them anyway, and shuffled to the bathroom. His legs were numb and shaky as he pulled on the pants, and he glanced up at himself in the mirror afterwards. Mikey’s lips were red and shiny, and a trail of light hickies ran down the side of his neck. He fought back a satisfied smile before treading back into the living room.

Patrick was still asleep in the same position he was earlier, and Mikey mentally thanked whatever gods that were listening to him. Pete was sitting next to him in a pair of plaid pajama pants, and he grinned up at Mikey when he thumped down in his previous spot. Pete leaned his head on Mikey’s shoulder and hummed happily.

“How was that, Tall Leg Dude?” he teased, and Mikey rolled his eyes.

“Wait a second, did you just Netflix and chill me?” Mikey blurted out in disbelief. Pete laughed almost hysterically and nestled his face into the other’s chest.

“Well, actually, I just wanted to have a movie night with a cute boy and my best friend,” Pete looked up at him with a wolfish smile before wiggling his eyebrows and adding in a low voice, “The sex was just a nice surprise.”

Mikey rolled his eyes again, before moving into a comfortable position and pulling Pete close to his chest. Pete wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in his shirt again. 

“Good night, Short Sweater Guy.” Mikey whispered into Pete’s hair.

“Good night, Mikeyway.”


End file.
